The Casey Dilemma
by WafflesnRizzles
Summary: Jane ponders Casey's ultimatum from the season 4 finale while trying to push down her growing feelings toward a certain medical examiner and trying to find a murderer with a taste for Salvador Dali.
1. Jane Cleans Her House

**I have a cat named Dr. Maura Isles and I'm currently watching her zoom around the house pouncing on everything in sight and tangling herself in her favorite sari hanging from my door. I took it as a sign to start writing this fic.**

**I of course don't own any of the characters. Rather, they own quite a bit of me. **

"Where the FUCK is the damned broom?" Jane asked, storming around her house. She was pretty sure there was a bit of eggshell on the tile in the kitchen. And a few crumbs from the top of the donut she ate yesterday.

Casey was cruel.

Jane threw open her refrigerator and prayed to the God of Hops that a beer was in there.

Farmer's market vegetables and farm-fresh milk greeted her.

"Shit." She angrily slammed the door shut.

He didn't ask her if she wanted her refrigerator cleaned out. He didn't ask if he could come over for lunch at the precinct yesterday.

He didn't ask her to marry him.

No, instead he simply took it for granted that she would like a "clean" refrigerator. That she would like to have lunch with him. That she wouldn't care for flowers and rings and _the question_.

No, instead he simply asked her to choose between his career and her future. Marry me or never see me again.

No fucking big deal, right?

Jane paced her apartment, Joe Friday trotting annoyingly at her heels, searching desperately for a conclusion. She found the vacuum and began at the far side of the living room.

She ticked it off in her head: she liked Casey. They got along well. They had known each other for decades, enjoyed spending time with each other. She didn't mind kissing him. He had a pretty nice body. He was loyal, doting, hard-working.

All things said and done, he was a pretty great guy.

She groaned in frustration. The damned vacuum cleaner couldn't get to the crumbs just under the coffee table. She turned off the vacuum cleaner, frustrated, to move the offending piece of furniture.

_But do I want to spend the rest of my life with him_?

"FUCK." the coffee table came down hard on her bare toe. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck," she muttered, leaping around the living room while Joe Friday watched unconcerned.

"Some dog you are," Jane said, glaring at the scruffy creature.

And then the cons: The metaphorical knife wound she felt when he shut her out after his injury. The anger she felt at that god damned pride of his that got between them. The happiness she had to feign when he surprised her with dinner, forcing her to cancel plans with her best friend. The little flutters of annoyance that brushed against her when he reorganized her refrigerator.

_I always wanted a wife._

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and saw that she had two texts from Maura.

**M: **The broom is on your balcony.

She smacked herself on the forehead. Of course! She had dropped a mug there a few days ago when Maura surprised her in the morning with breakfast.

**M: **I have a six pack of Blue Moon in the refrigerator.

_She is a goddess_.

**J:** Leaving now.

Twenty minutes later, she was sitting on Maura's couch and knocking back her second beer. The petite blonde sat silently next to her, one hand on her leg. The fingers were drumming rhythmically against her thigh.

The clock over the giant flat screen TV loudly reminded Jane of the passing seconds.

"Ya playing Beethoven with those fingers of yours?" Jane asked, looking down at Maura's restless hands.

"Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto Number 2, actually," Maura said nonchalantly.

"Is that the one that goes BUM dA dUMMMM BUM dA dUMMMM baDADUM…" Jane asked, comically pretending she was playing the piano.

Maura nodded and smiled, but there weren't any dimples, "I thought you didn't like classical music?"

"I used to watch the _Seven Year Itch_ a lot as a kid. My mom really liked it."

"Ah, yes. Marilyn Monroe and Tom Ewell. A classic," Maura's uncharacteristically short answer fell flat.

Jane got up, stretching, to go get another bottle of beer, leaving Maura's hand to fall limply to the couch.

"I always liked how the crazy, elaborate seduction of Marilyn Monroe is all in his head," Jane says, cracking open the beer and walking back to the couch.

_Did Jane just say the word, "seduction"_?

"Did I just say the word 'seduction'? Jeeze, Maur," she chuckled nervously. "This Casey thing must really be going to my head."

She sat down heavily and stared at the intricate, undoubtedly hand-stitched, patterns of the rug beneath her feet. She smelled the delicate scent of her best friend waft toward her as the smaller woman shifted toward her on the couch. Feet tucked under her tight, yoga-pants clad ass, she wrapped a comforting arm around Jane's back and one across her front, her two hands meeting at a point just below Jane's shoulder.

Jane sighed into the embrace, lightly rubbing her head in acknowledgement against the one resting on her shoulder.

"Maur. What do I do?"

She felt the Medical Examiner stiffen at the question.

"Do you love him?"

"Of course I love him. I just…I don't know if I want to get married right now. It all seems so sudden, you know?"

She sighed.

"If I don't marry him, he sticks with his job and I lose him."

_But you stay with me_. The words came unbidden to Maura's head.

"If I marry him, he gives up his job and I keep him."

_But you lose me. _

"Why does he make me choose between his job and me? Why can't he have both? Why can't we do what we've _been_ doing?"

"Because of me," Maura said quietly.

"Excuse me, Maura. WHAT?"

"Because of me. Casey gave you this ultimatum because I'm in the painting."

"Picture, Maura. You're in the picture," Jane corrected automatically.

She took a long gulp of beer.

"What does he mean by 'you're in the picture'?" Jane asked slowly.


	2. Maura Has Nipples

_After another long, but fulfilling day, Maura was seated at her desk finishing up an autopsy report. She had spent her day doing her favorite thing: tagging along as Jane chased leads. After a dramatic (and mildly traumatic) car chase culminating in a foot chase and a comical incident involving an unfortunate skateboarder, the perpetrator had been apprehended._

_ She looked at her phone and saw that it was already 15 minutes after seven, time to meet Jane and the gang at the Dirty Robber. _

_She heard a knock and looked up, expecting to see dark, unruly curls and the most beautiful brown eyes she had ever seen. Instead, she saw a bald head and steel blue eyes. _

_"Oh. Casey. Come in," Maura greeted, rising to meet him. _

_"Maura," he said, rather tersely. _

_"Please, take a seat. I must say, I'm surprised to see you here." _

_Casey stiffly sat down. "Yes, well, I have something very important to speak to you about." _

_Maura bowed her head in encouragement, unable to fathom what he could mean. _

_"I know that you're in love with Jane." _

_Maura willed words to come, but she simply sat, mouth uncharacteristically agape, shaking her head in denial. _

_Casey smiled sadly. "Maura, it's obvious." _

_Her breath was coming shorter, her heartbeat increasing and decreasing in uneven bursts. _

_"Cardiac dysrhythmia and dyspnea...I…I…" she bent over double in her chair, putting her head level with her knees. "I can't…I'm not…" _

_"Oh yes, Dr. Isles. You are very much in love with my Jane," he chuckled to himself, as if remembering something amusing. "All the looks, all the touches, the adoration in your eyes. It's very easy to see." _

_Thinking about her best friend, she felt a rush of shame. Maura felt the inevitable blush creep across her cheeks. _

_"So, I'm going to ask her to marry me. And I want to ask you, __**as Jane's friend**__, not to go confusing her. She's been fighting all her life against all those damned people calling her 'Gayzolli' and 'dyke.' I was there in high school to help her through it, and I'm here now, too. She loves me, and we can be happy together. Please, I'm just asking you to let her live her life." _

_Tears in her eyes, Maura nodded. She took a few seconds to get her breathing under control. "I will. Now please, go." _

_I can't tell her_.

Jane moved her face closer to Maura's, searching desperately for the reason behind her best friend's watery eyes and tortured expression.

"Maur. Please," Jane rasped, her gravelly voice conjuring a ball of warmth in Maura's stomach.

She found herself experiencing more cardiac dysrhythmia at her best friend's proximity.

_If only you knew_.

Jane placed her hand gently on Maura's warm cheek, tilting the blonde's head up to look at her. Maura closed her eyes and unconsciously leaned in to the strong hand, reveling in the touch of the lanky brunette.

_Those long fingers running down the length of her bare abdomen…_

Her eyes flew open and she jolted backward, mumbling a round of "I can'ts."

"You can't what, Maura?"

_Watch you love somebody else. _

"Spend so much time with you," she said quickly. "I think I'm getting in the way of you and Casey."

"Really, Maur? That's what you're worried about? I have my Casey time and I have my Maura time. Right now, it's Maura time," Jane said, her eyes softening at the beautiful blonde before her. She kissed Maura quickly on the forehead.

"Now come on and let's go to bed," Jane said, pulling up a still-dejected Maura off the couch. She smiled fondly at her best friend, who currently looked very small standing with red-rimmed eyes and a short, thin silk nightgown. It was a far cry from the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, who wore crisp, perfect outfits and never had a strand of hair out of place.

She loved both those women.

"If you give me a smile, I'll promise to wake up early and do some yoga with you before work."

Jane accompanied this with her most charming smile.

A quiet smile softened Maura's eyes in return.

Jane pulled her up the stairs. "Good. It's settled!"

Once in bed, Maura found every atom of her makeup straining toward the olive-skinned detective. Instead of giving into it, she resolutely laid stiffly at the extreme end of the bed.

_How long_? She wondered to herself. _How long have I felt gynephilia_?

She laughed to herself.

_Gynephilia? More like Janephilia. _

"What's got you all giggly?" Jane asked, scooting closer to her friend. Her body moulded to the side of the Medical Examiner. "Got any secrets?" she whispered conspiratorially.

"Plenty," Maura purred, cocking an eyebrow.

"Tell me one."

"I'm not wearing any undergarments."

Maura stopped breathing, unable to believe what had just come out of her mouth.

Jane froze in her subconscious nuzzling. She was currently pressed up against her best friend _who was not wearing underwear_.

She peeked downwards and saw two pert nipples standing erect underneath Maura's purple silk nightgown.

Or, apparently, a bra.

Suddenly, she was hyperaware of the bare, creamy legs pressed up against her, the thin purple nightgown that barely reached mid-thigh, those damned attention-grabbing nipples…

Unbidden, a soft moan escaped Jane's lips. It sent little streams of desire down Maura's stomach and into her core.

Jane felt a very distinct rush of heat and moisture between her legs and an overweening desire to cross the line she had been toeing since the two had met.

"I…I, uh, forgottobrushmyteeth." And Jane flew out of the bed and into the bathroom, where she promptly splashed some _very_ cold water on her face.

_What was that, Rizzoli_?

It wasn't like this hadn't happened before. There had been moments where they had gotten too close and Jane found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss the Medical Examiner.

There had been moments when the medical examiner's hand had been on her thigh and she felt a faint rush of heat begin to coil in her lower abdomen.

But nothing so intense, so immediate, as this.

_She's your best friend, Rizzoli. You're not gay. _

Jane splashed one more handful of cold water on her face before heading back into the bedroom. She settled herself in her previous position, not wanting to create any more awkwardness and definitely not wanting Maura to question her about her strange behavior.

"Maur, whatever happens, I'm so glad I have you in my life," Jane mumbled into Maura's honey blonde hair. Her arm thrown lightly over her best friend's stomach, Jane felt utterly at peace. "Everything's gonna work out okay, right? With Casey?" Jane asked, burying her head back into Maura's neck.

"My dear friend, what is this our life?" Maura began to recite. "A boat that swims in the sea, and all one knows for certain about it is that one day it will capsize.

"Here we are, two good old boats that have been faithful neighbors, and above all your hand has done its best to keep me from capsizing! Let us then continue our voyage each for the other's sake, for a long time yet, a long time!

We should miss each other so much! Tolerably calm seas and good winds and above all sun. What I wish for myself, I wish for you, too, and am sorry that my gratitude can find expression only in such a wish and has no influence at all on wind or weather."

Jane pulled back a little bit to look at Maura's face. "Wow," she rasped. "Where'd that come from?"

"It's Nietzsche," Maura smiled proudly, "I've always wanted to employ that in everyday conversation."

Jane's eyes softened, searching the hazel eyes she loved so much. She lifted a hand to stroke Maura's cheek.

"Thanks, Maur."

"_Omnia fato fiunt_: what is meant to be, will be," Maura sighed.

Maura nestled into Jane, relishing in the contact. It was moments like this that Maura felt something settle deeply inside her. It was a certainty, a conviction: this was meant to be.

Will be.

Maura only had to wait.


	3. Jane Makes A Decision

When Maura's internal body clock woke her up at exactly 7:03 a.m., Jane was not lying next to her.

She stretched and sighed, feeling the unattended wetness between her thighs from the previous night. She had lain the bait for Jane, who had almost bitten, but had spooked at the last second.

It gave her hope.

She bounced gaily out of bed and down the stairs, a large smile on her face as she came to a stop in the kitchen.

In it, she saw her love making breakfast, a stack of pancakes for herself and an egg white omelet with spinach for Maura.

Jane returned Maura's radiant smile. She handed the medical examiner a cup of coffee. "It isn't your fancy stuff, but if you ask me, it ain't bad."

Maura took a sip. "It's perfect." She moved around the counter to get closer to Jane, who awkwardly took a step backwards.

"Maura, I'd like you to sit down," she announced. "I've made a decision."

Maura paled and sat down, not liking where this was going.

"I'm going to marry Casey."

Maura stared numbly at the granite countertop, feeling as though the warm cup of coffee between her hands was her sole source of warmth and life.

_You lost her. You moved too fast for her and you lost her._

"Maur?"

_You lost her. You lost her. You lost her. _

"Maur?"

_You lost her. You lost her. You lost her. _

Jane's hands were on her now. On her hands, on her shoulders, on her face.

_Jane's hands are on my submaxila. _

"I know you don't like Casey all that much, but will you be my maid of honor?" Jane asked, searching Maura's eyes.

Under intense scrutiny, Maura tried to muster up some façade of happiness.

_With Jane married, I'll have much more time to read my medical journals. _

Maura's eyes glimmered momentarily before falling flat again.

It was good enough for Jane. "Good! It's settled. Breakfast and then yoga?"

Yoga was torture.

Jane felt as though Maura were deliberately trying to sabotage her sexuality.

_I'm straight. I'm straight._ Jane repeated to herself as she watched Maura's toned ass go through the _bitilasana_ and dolphin poses. It was mocking her in the mirror, stretching and toning her sexual preference to suit its needs.

_Maura's ass has needs_?

"Jane, you're doing the Parivrtta Trikonasana incorrectly."

"Spread your legs like so." She placed her hands between Jane's legs and gently pushed them apart.

_Yep. Sabotage. _

"Now twist your torso like so." She placed her hands on Jane's hips and turned them to the left."

"And then place this hand next to this foot…" Maura said, pulling Jane's long body down.

"OW!" Jane yelped, yanking her body back up.

"Don't worry, Jane. I'll help you."

The medical examiner put her hand lightly on Jane's back, slowly applying pressure downward to push Jane's hand toward the floor. She made comforting circles on the detective's back, slowly getting the brunette's hand to touch all the way to the ground.

"Owwwwwww," Jane said, moving up slowly. "Shoot, Maur. You could get me to do just about anything, huh?"

_If only._ Maura thought. Outwardly, she only hummed noncommittally.

Once at BPD, Jane stood nervously in line at the café. She shifted from one foot to the other, rubbed her palms anxiously and muttered angry curses at the indecisive customers in front of her.

"Hey, Ma? Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Of course, Janie!" She turned to Stanley. "Mr. Stanley, I'll be right back."

With a few mutterings of "damned Rizzolis" and "what do I pay you for," he let the matriarch go.

Jane sat down at a booth with her mother and sighed heavily.

"Ma. I don't want you spreading this around yet, so I'm gonna make you promise not to tell anyone."

"Of course, Janie. You know I'd never betray your trust."

Jane made a noise of disbelief, but continued. "Ma, I'm getting married."

The elder woman clapped her hands together happily, "Oh, Janie!"

She lowered her voice to a loud whisper, "Who's the lucky person?"

"Who? Ma! I'm only dating one person. Casey. Remember?"

"Ooooh. I only thought maybe…oh, never mind. So, what does Maura think about all of this?"

"She's going to be my maid of honor."

Angela's lips curved up into an affected smile. "That's nice."

"I was thinking of getting married pretty quickly. So, uh, can you do all your plan-y stuff?"

"Of course, Janie." She stood up and gave her daughter a tight hug. When she pulled back, she had tears in her eyes.

"Ma, no need to cry. I expected you to be really loud and happy, not, well, this." Jane shifted nervously under her mother's gaze.

"If this is what you want, I'm happy for you," Angela said, smiling another affected smile.

Jane picked up her coffee and trudged over to her desk, dreading the disorganized stacks of paperwork that greeted her.

"Hey, Korsak," Jane greeted, kicking the leg of her desk before she sat down.

"What's got your goat?"

Jane stares pointedly at the paper on her desk.

"Here, have a donut."

"Korsak, you're a lifesaver."

Three donuts and two coffees later, Jane had barely made a dent in the stack in front of her.

"I'm gonna go see what Maura's up to."

Korsak flashed her a knowing smile.

"What? Can't a girl stretch her legs around here?"

As she was getting up, Korsak asked, "Hey, Jane, do you know what happened to Frost? He hasn't answered my text today and he hasn't called in sick."

Jane shrugged. "I know he went to go visit his mom and her partner for dinner last night. He's probably still over there."

"Hey Maur," Jane sauntered into her best friend's office and flopped down unceremoniously on her uncomfortable couch.

Maura looked up from the file she was reading, "Oh, hello Jane," she said noncommittally.

"Jeeze. Paperwork is a bitch today. Wanna go for a long lunch?"

"Language, Jane. And no. I have far too many things that need to get done."

"C'mon, Maur! I'll let you eat some of my fries."

Maura shook her head.

"And I'll get some kale!"

Maura smiled a little, but still shook her head.

"Pleeeeeassseeee? I gotta get out of here!" Jane whined.

"Jane, the answer is no." Maura said sharply, cleanly wiping the puppy-dog face off her best friend and object of affection.

Maura was a little surprised at herself; she had only snapped at Jane one other time, when Paddy Doyle was shot, and she still hated herself for that.

"Jane. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I—" Maura found herself cut off by the loud ringtone of Jane's cell phone.

"Rizzoli."

And then her much more muted one.

"Isles."

"I'll be right there," they said in unison, smiling shyly at each other when they realized it.

"I'm driving," Jane said.


	4. Maura Has a Game Plan

**Hey, guys! I'm going to try to post two chapters in a day because they seem to be so short. It also doesn't help that I'm extraordinarily impatient. **

**I'm trying to account for the loss of Lee Thompson Young (may he finally find peace) in this story, so I hope you guys don't get too worked up about the absence of Frost. **

"Glad Frost isn't here right now. This one's a doozy," Korsak greeted them, chivalrously lifting up the yellow police tape for the two women.

"Where is Frost, anyway?"

"Dunno. Couldn't reach him." He turned to one of the blues posted outside the crime scene tape. "Hey, can you look up Detective Frost's mother and give her a call? He's MIA."

They were in an alley not far from Fenway between two old apartment buildings. Blood was smeared expertly across the white alley wall in deliberately warped circles. Two lines from the middle pointed outward. Twelve dots on the perimeter. A tree, a strange lump with eyelashes.

"Clocks?" Jane asked incredulously. "Appropriate. Bastard certainly took enough time doing this."

"The detail is exquisite…" Maura observed, impressed. Noting the look of disapproval she received from Korsak and Jane, she quickly added, "For a murderer, of course."

Jane looked at her skeptically. "Is this…a work of art?"

"I wouldn't call it _that_, Jane. It is a rather accurate, albeit seemingly rushed, rendition of Salvador Dali's "The Persistence of Memory."

Jane and Korsak exchanged a look. "That sounds awfully personal," she said to the older detective.

The medical examiner crouched down beside the body. "Black. Male. Early thirties. No identification…time of death, about 11 p.m. last night."

Jane paled.

"Ugh. Are those ants?!" Jane backed away from the body, where an army of ants were busy eating some sort of sugary substance on a pocket watch.

"Oh! More attention to detail. There are ants consuming a watch in The Persistence of Memory. It is thought to symbolize the decay of memories with time. In his other—"

"All right. All right. We'll bag it," Jane said, cutting off the blonde, who huffily went back to looking over the body.

"No tattoos, no cell phone, nothing? How long are those fingerprints gonna take?" Jane asked anxiously.

"We need to get them back to the lab, Jane," Korsak said soothingly. "This is just a coincidence. Why would Frost be down here?"

Jane racked her brain, trying to conjure up any reason her partner would be down this far south. She tried to think of any identifying features that her partner would have… a birthmark, tattoo, scar? She couldn't think of anything.

_Do I know my partner at all?_ Jane wondered ruefully.

"Got any murder weapons?" Jane asked, looking at the multiple head wounds and gashes throughout the body. The face was distorted: bruises, gashes and swelling obscured any facial features.

"Massive head trauma. Likely due to blunt force trauma. These lacerations over here," Maura said, pointing to the vic's neck and wrists, "were inflicted post-mortem by a very sharp weapon. I'll be able to tell more once I get this body back to the morgue."

The loud tone of her ringtone jolted Jane's attention away from the bloodied body before her.

"Rizzoli."

"Hey, babe. I was wondering what time you'd be home for dinner? The apartment looks wonderful, by the way. Didn't take you to be the cleaning type."

Jane tapped her foot in frustration, motioning to officers what evidence she wanted bagged.

"I'm not. And I'm on a case right now, so I don't think dinner is really an option."

She motioned for one of the officers to begin searching through the small dumpster.

"Would've been nice to know. I'm in the middle of making a lovely risotto and ratatouille. Are you in the office? I could bring some over when it's done."

Casting a glance at the lifeless body at her feet, she sighed heavily.

"Not sure when I'll be back. I, uh, have a lot to deal with here. I have to go now. Bye."

"Was that Casey?" Maura asked nonchalantly.

"Yes." The words were forced out through gritted teeth. "He's making risotto and ratatouille and wanted to know when I'd be home for dinner." She finished her statement with a broad, disingenuous smile.

"That sounds like quite a lovely celebratory dinner, Jane." Maura was not looking at Jane, finishing up with her prodding and measuring.

"Celebrating what?" Jane asked, motioning for an officer to come speak with her.

"For your engagement, of course."

Jane turned to the officer, "Have you gotten in contact with Frost's mother?"

"We haven't been able to get ahold of her yet," he responded.

"Have you tried Frost again?"

"Yes, no answer."

"Keep trying. And send a uniform out to Frost's house and his mother's."

Jane turned back to Maura, only to see the woman's figure across the street, ducking inside her police cruiser.

"I haven't told him yet," Jane said, sliding into the driver's seat.

The loud click of her seatbelt and the roar of the engine turning over made the silence that followed that much more deafening. The car remained idling in the street. Jane couldn't bring herself to put the car in gear, so she just sat, not daring to look at her best friend.

The unspoken question hung between them.

_Why?_

Her eyes darted to the right, just catching a glimpse of creamy white calves and of hot pink material barely covering tempting thighs. She didn't dream of turning her head to look further up, where she knew the medical examiner's white blouse scooped down, revealing the tops of curvaceous breasts.

"He needs to know, Jane. He won't wait forever." Maura said evenly.

They both knew that she wasn't talking about Casey. She comforted herself with the knowledge that about half of first marriages in the United States end in divorce.

She shifted her legs, demurely crossing her left over her right, very consciously giving Jane a view of her ass.

_Dr. Isles, you're just going to have to step up your game. _Maura smiled at herself for using the colloquialism correctly.

"So, Jane, how is your sex with Casey?"

"WHAT?" Jane nearly choked on the tepid coffee she had just started to sip. Maura reached over to gently pat the convulsing and coughing Jane on the shoulder, only to miss and find her hand on Jane's right breast, prompting another round of surprised coughing from the detective.

"Sorry," Jane eked out, her usually raspy voice at a strained whisper. She coughed a few more times. "Wrong pipe." She put the car in drive and gunned the gas, driving slightly more recklessly than usual in a futile attempt to make the car trip as short as possible.

"You've just seemed a little tense these past few days. I was simply wondering if he was effective at making you orgasm."

Jane tightly gripped the steering wheel, narrowly missing a pedestrian and running a biker off the road and onto the crowded sidewalk.

"Oops." Jane waved in apology at the disgruntled biker and toyed with the idea of putting her flashers on.

"Studies show that sex is a good anxiety reducer, and is proven to help lower blood pressure, not to mention the benefits to your immune system. It increases the immunoglobin A, an antibody that is one of the first responders to infections…"

Jane let the blonde rattle on, choosing to focus on weaving through the 5 pm traffic and hopefully getting away from the thoughts of a certain Dr. Isles performing a certain stress reducing activity.

_I should be thinking about Casey. _

Muscled, hairy legs. A short torso, bouncy curled hair over man-nipples.

Nipples. Maura had nipples. Nice, round, hair-free nipples. Ones that poked enticingly out at her from that purple silk nightgown and from that scoop neck blouse…

"Jane!"

Jane looked up to notice a green light and some very angry Bostonians in the cars behind her. She guiltily gunned the gas quicker than was called for, face burning with the shame of being caught staring at her best friend's rack.

Maura smiled in triumph.

Why hadn't she done this before? It was so _easy_. Now it was a zero-sum game. She either won it all or lost it all.

Could she stand to lose it all? Jane was her best friend, her only friend. The one person who understood her, the one person who could stand her. The only person who had ever stayed the night in her bed without having sex with her, without expecting something of her.

The more pressing question was: against whom was she playing this game for Jane?

Herself? Her best friend? Casey?

Casey certainly believed that he was playing against Maura. His visit to her office underscored that. Putting aside her own feelings for the detective, Maura had never necessarily liked Casey. He had time and again hurt Jane, and that was inexcusable. She ticked off the advantages Casey had over herself in her head.

One, he had a penis. She could easily fix that obstacle with a couple of online purchases and a bit of self-confidence.

Two, he and Jane had a history together. She remembered the stories about his coming to her defense in high school and their prom night. Well, the two of them had a history as well, one that was more recent and likely more meaningful.

Three, Jane owed him something. Though Maura hated to guess, she knew that Jane most likely felt a deep sense of obligation toward the colonel for all of the support he provided her through high school. Now that he needed her, she felt obligated to be there for him. Something, Maura knew, that did not necessitate sex or marriage.

Four, Casey was seemingly the last bastion of Jane's heterosexuality. Maura decided this was the most pressing obstacle to overcome, and she knew just how to do it.

He might be on the lead now, but Maura had the house field advantage.

_Note to self: brush up on sports slang. _

She knew one thing for sure, and that was Jane.


	5. Jane Is Shocked

**I know I promised two chapters a day, but I have a Geopolitics midterm tomorrow and Ratzel is beckoning. Enjoy! **

**J: **Hey, Maur. Late night coffee run?

**M: **I'm on a date.

**J: **Can't wait to hear about it.

**M: **Well you will have to. I have to go.

**J: **Sarcasm.

**M: **Darn! I never can get it over SMS. I am much better at reading facial expressions. I've read many books on the subject.

**J: **Some date that must be if u r spending so long texting me.

**M: **She is riveting, thank you. Don't you have a murderer to catch?

**J: **She?!

**M: **Bye, Jane.

Jane was correct. She was having an awful time on her date. She had asked the token lesbian in BPD, Officer Kate, to dinner in desperate attempt to arouse Jane's jealousy.

Maura watched as Kate downed a third tumbler of scotch and wiped her greasy burger hands on her black officer pants. Yes, this was a terrible idea. Jane would at least use a napkin.

"Canfyoupassdakatchup?" Kate asked, her mouth full of burger. Her straight brunette hair was pulled back into a lumpy ponytail that bobbed with each terrifying mastication of meat. Maura found herself wondering if Kate were actually part _canis lupis_.

Once finished with the offending hunk of meat, the officer relaxed back in the booth, spreading her legs in a manly fashion and smiling lazily. "I never took you for the gay type, Dr. Isles."

Maura demurely took a sip of her wine, wishing she could flaunt social norms and quaff the entire glass in one go. "I have never limited myself to one gender, but in my adult life men simply have seemed easier."

"Easier?" Officer Kate asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes. I've never had a dearth of men desiring me. I always, however, seem to have a lack of women."

"What does that make me?" Officer Kate asked, offended.

This would be a long night.

Maura smiled apologetically. "The first in a long time."

"So, uh, you and that detective…uh, Rizzoli…were never a thing?"

A long, long night.

Maura sighed, "Against popular belief and wishes, no."

"Damnnnn. You just won me fifty bucks, doc!" Officer Kate leaned her tall frame over the table with her hand in the air. Maura scooted back in her seat, eyeing the uplifted hand in confusion.

"Can I get a high five, doc? Not gonna leave me hangin, are you?"

Maura started rooting through her purse. "I don't seem to have a five…would you mind a ten?" She awkwardly placed the ten-dollar bill in the uplifted hand of the perplexed officer.

"Nah. It's okay. Dinner's on me," she said slowly, handing the bill back to the strange medical examiner. She was beginning to think this date with the "doc" was not such a great idea.

Suddenly, the implications of Kate's previous statement dawned on her. "Am I correct to assume that you had a bet with other officers that Jane Rizzoli and I were lovers?" Maura asked, incredulous.

Kate coughed uncomfortably, her pale green eyes refusing to look into the medical examiner's sharp hazel ones.

"I'm terribly sorry, Officer, but I really must be going," Maura said, smoothly sliding out from the booth and out of the restaurant.

Jane sat stock-still at her desk, holding her cell phone away from her body as if it were diseased. Her mouth was ever so slightly agape, her eyes glazed. Korsak was almost positive she had fallen asleep with her eyes open.

"Jane? Hey, Jane." Korsak threw a crumbled piece of paper at her.

Jane blinked once in response.

Korsak began crumpling up another piece of paper, "Earth to Jane!" It bounced neatly off her head and onto the empty desk of Frost.

Korsak walked up to her and shook her gently. "Jane?"

Jane pointed mutely to the open phone in her right hand.

Korsak looked at the text conversation and smiled. "Well gee! It's about time!" He clapped Jane on the back. "Don't worry, Jane. She'll come around."

Jane nodded pensively, lost in thought.

_Maura is gay. _

Was this not something her best friend should have told her before? There must be some best friend rule somewhere that requires full sexuality disclosure. Why didn't Maura tell her? Was Jane that unapproachable? Was she a bad friend?

_Maura likes women_.

Did that mean… could that mean…the possibility was there that… No. Maura couldn't. She didn't. She wouldn't. Not possible. She was Maura's best friend.

Maura likes women.

_I am a woman_.

Suddenly, Jane looked up at Korsak, squinting her eyes with distrust, "Wait. What do you mean, 'she'll come around'?"

The older detective hooked his thumbs into the top of his pants and shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I, uh, just meant that she'll be around the precinct tomorrow. Right, Frost?"

His question was meant with silence, Frost's empty chair doing nothing to help him save face with the seething detective.

"Still no word on him?"

"Some. Frost's mother's car is gone from the house. The neighbors haven't seen anyone in or out of the house since last night."

"I don't like it. Once it reaches the 24 hour mark, I'm filing a formal missing persons report," Jane said.

Her phone lit up with a text from Maura.

**M: **We've got something on the fingering.

**J: **Jesus, Maur! I don't wanna know about ur sex life!

**M: **Oh. Sorry. I meant to say, "We've got something on the fingerprints." I'll be at the precinct in five.

Part of Jane was really curious to know what her gay best friend was able to do with her dexterous fingers. _Quick, precise fingers travelling down to her swollen clit_.

**J: **Check before u sext, Maur. Practically gave me a heart attack.

Jane felt her before she saw her. The erratic speeding up and slowing down of her heart in conjunction with her quickening breaths and a moist feeling under her armpits precipitated the blonde breezing in.

A tight green dress blanketed her rolling curves, skillfully dodging mountainous breasts and taut calves. Her golden honey locks were swept to the side, perfectly framing her heart-shaped face and forest-flecked eyes.

Jane couldn't keep the smile off her face. "You look good." The statement came out lower than she intended. She tried to tear her eyes away from the foresty ones in front of her, but found herself entirely unable to.

They were green like the tops of trees, black like the dirt underneath, golden like the color of newly-fallen leaves and brown like the pelts of little animals scurrying in the undergrowth. Foresty.

Maura lightly touched Jane's cheek with the tips of her fingers and smiled softly. "Thank you."

Korsak made a point to noisily get up from his desk. "Dr. Isles, you look lovely," he said. "What have you got for us?"

"Great news: nothing!" Maura said with a smile.

"Nothing?" A triumphant smile spreads across Jane's face, mirrored by Korsak.

"Nothing."


	6. Maura Flirts With Nudism

"So if it isn't Frost, then who is our John Doe?" Jane asked, pacing around the bullpen.

As a police officer, Frost would have been in the system, effectively eliminating him as the vic. This still, however, didn't settle her nerves regarding her partner. She had a nagging feeling that something was simply not right. Frost simply did not miss work without a call or a text. Frankie hadn't heard from him, his mother and her partner still had not arrived home…it was all a little disconcerting.

Frost aside, Jane saw her case sink further into the proverbial mud. They had no leads, no witnesses, no vic ID, no fingerprints. She and Korsak had spent the better part of the day calling the businesses in the area surrounding Fenway in a vain attempt to garner any information about the victim or the alleyway. There had to be _something_ to help them.

"Hey, Maur? Did you ever send that sticky stuff on the watch to the crime lab?"

"Oh, yes. Senior Criminalist Chang said she'd have it done before she goes home tonight."

"Great! I'll go down there and check her progress—"

"I don't believe you would be comfortable down there, Jane," Maura interrupted.

"And _why_ is that?"

"Well, Senior Criminalist Chang has taken to bringing her nudism to work on late nights—she claims it helps her to work better."

Jane's mouth dropped open slightly. Korsak held his round stomach and laughed heartily.

"It is very liberating," Maura mused. "I've been thinking about adopting the practice myself."

_Maura, naked, legs crossed, in her Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts chair, a cool, seductive grin on her face. _

_Stop staring at her boobs, you moron. _

Jane's phone went off, breaking the awkward silence Maura seemed to take no notice of.

"Rizzoli." Jane sighed, listening to whatever the person on the other line was saying. "Well, fuck. Okay. Don't bother calling Dr. Isles or Korsak, I have them right here. We'll be there as soon as we can." She hung up her phone and looked at her best friend. "Keep your clothes on, Dr. Isles. We've got another murder."

"Swans Reflecting Elephants. Another Dali classic," Maura commented easily upon entering the crime scene.

Dark brown cuts across two dirty squares of sidewalk in arcs and lines. Smaller and more rushed than the previous painting, the brushstrokes crudely depicted three swans, their reflections stretching into elephants. They sat in a ruddy pool in front of a small island of broken, barren trees. An old black pipe sat next to the drained body of a stocky middle-aged man.

_Crack! _Korsak pulled on a pair of blue latex gloves to pick up the pipe. "Hasn't been used in quite some time. Must be a prop."

"More attention to detail. There is a man standing on the left side of the original painting that has a pipe in his mouth." Maura bent down to get closer to the body, the curve of her ass momentarily hijacking Jane's vision.

"I _ass_ume you're working very hard, sis?" Frankie says as he sidles up to the gawking Jane.

"Shut up, _ass_wipe." Jane hip checks her younger brother and crouches down to Maura's level. "What do we have?"

"Caucasian male, mid-forties, suffers from acute _alopecia_—"

"Alo-what?"

"Commonly referred to as baldness," Maura clarified. "Has excessive blood loss due to severed right jugular, generally used to drain the body of blood during embalming."

"The murder seems to be much more precise…but the painting seems to be much more rushed. Maur, can you tell if he was killed here?"

"There are no signs of blood loss anywhere in the area, nor any signs of other injuries. I need to check the angle of the score, but upon initial analysis, he seems to have been attacked from behind with a sharp, precise object."

"So you think this was premeditated?"

"I refuse to venture a guess, but it does seem that way, doesn't it?" Maura carefully ended her statement with a question, so as to be very clear she was not, in fact, guessing.

Jane rolled her eyes, but was glad for her best friend's almost-agreement with her. The last murder had looked hasty, angry, passionate. This murder seemed very calm and precise, though the execution of the bloody Dali rendition was much more hurried.

"Did anybody see anything?" Jane asked one of the police officers at the crime scene tape.

"We do have one lady. She's a bit shaken up, but she'll talk."

He led Jane over to a stout woman who was wringing her hands nervously. Jane inwardly groaned: she could feel the drama pouring off the woman in waves.

_Here we go. _

"Hello, ma'am. I'm detective Jane Rizzoli. I hear you saw something?"

"Oh, yes! It was traumatic!"

"I'm sure it was, Ms.—" Jane paused for her name.

"Yates."

"I'm sure it was traumatic, Ms. Yates. And I know it seems insensitive to talk about it right now, but it's really important that we get your statement down while it's fresh in your head. Anything you can remember will be crucial to helping me bring this man to justice. So anything you can remember—anything at all—I would like you to tell me." Jane hated giving this speech, but it was routine, and helpful in calming her impatience when she had to wring details out of nervous witnesses.

The lady bobbed her head in understanding. "I'm really—I'm glad to be of help, detective," she said solemnly. "I was walking home from work and saw a man crouching down on the sidewalk with a paint bucket in his hand." She paused, waiting for Jane to write down what she said. "I saw someone lying next to him, and didn't think twice about it, only as I got closer, I noticed he seemed very hurried, like he wanted to leave but couldn't. I couldn't see his face, but I did notice that he was wearing black gloves and carrying some sort of cane." Here, she paused again, the scratching of Jane's pen loud between them. "As soon as he heard me come near, he ran away. I found the body and called our boys in blue—" She paused, took in Jane's masculine appearance and then quickly corrected, "our _people_ in blue, immediately."

Jane forced a smile and handed the proud woman one of her business cards. "If you think of anything else, please don't hesitate to call me."

_He commits the murder elsewhere—probably somewhere nearby—bleeds our vic out into the paint bucket and then moves the body to the street to do the painting?_

Jane analyzed the blood on the pavement. Some lines seemed more fresh, others more thick.

_No. Why would he risk having a dead body out there with him? He probably bled the vic out, finished the painting, brought the vic out and then realized some details were missing. Our guy probably was a perfectionist and decided to do some touch-ups when Yates showed up. _

"Hey, Korsak. C'mere." She waited until her former partner was crouched down beside her. "Look. See how this is still wet, but this is already dry?"

Korsak nodded.

"It looks like our perp came back and touched this up later." She related to him her crime scenario.

"Seems plausible. That means he had to be going back and forth from somewhere…"

"Somewhere close."

"You know what that means."

"Canvass time! My favorite!" Jane's voice lilted up in feigned excitement, her eyes wide with sarcasm.


	7. Jane Gets A Break

**I'm so sorry for not updating yesterday! Duty forced me to go to my mother-in-law's book launch, where I was emotionally drained from schmoozing with rich fiftysomethings and physically inhibited by the quaffing of one glass too many of delicious wine to buoy my lacking social skills. **

Jane trudged to the fourth apartment building of the day, her standard black work boots dragging dramatically on the pavement.

"Jane, don't slouch. It stresses the muscles surrounding your cervical and thoracic curves and can also impede _eupnea_."

"It's a good thing I'm slouching, then. Eu-whatsacallit sounds like it hurts."

"_Eupnea_ is simply the term for normal breathing," Maura says, comically attempting to roll her eyes. Though she had been spending time with Jane for years, she hadn't to date been able to master the Rizzoli Eye Roll.

Jane dragged her body up the concrete steps knocked on the door of the next tenement building. "Maurrrrr," she whined. "I just want a break in the case already!"

A weathered old woman answered the door in a robe. Her wizened face showed no emotion, barring one pencil-drawn eyebrow that was slightly raised.

"Boston PD. I'm detective Jane Rizzoli. Do you have a few minutes to talk?" Jane flashed her BPD badge. "And this is Chief Medical Examiner Dr. Maura Isles." Maura smiled politely, inclining her head in greeting to the woman through the grainy mesh of the screen door.

The woman pursed her lips in thought. "Chief Medical Examiner, eh?" Her penciled eyebrows contracted, almost touching. "That mean there was a murder?"

"I'm afraid so, ma'am. We were wondering if maybe you knew this man?" Jane held a picture of the dead man up to the screen door, slightly perturbed that the woman hadn't let them in yet. She waited while the woman squinted at the picture. Her lips pursed, then released. Pursed, then released.

"I think he was one of my tenants," she said finally, sighing. "Bastard owed me two months' back rent. I almost kicked him out yesterday, but he said was working on some sort of project and would definitely have it to me by tomorrow." She opened the door for the two women. "Guess you'd better come in now, shouldn't ya?"

A narrow set of stairs greeted them at the end of the short hallway just inside the door. The three of them stood awkwardly cramped in the narrow hallway while the old woman shouted, "SONNY! SALVATORE! SONNNNNYYYY!"

"I'm com-ing! I'm com-ing," was the shouted response. A door closed somewhere above them and the distinctive shuffling of aged feet sounded on the creaking tenement stairs.

Jane's olive arm was flush with Maura's freckled one. Her fingers slowly found those of the medical examiner. Squeezing quickly, they conveyed all of the usual Rizzoli swagger and assurance.

_I got this_, the squeeze said to Maura.

But when the hand upon hers loosened, it didn't let go.

_Stay with me_, it said.

Maura smiled, feeling like the most fortunate woman in all of Boston.

_Eek eeek eeek_. The stairs alerted them of the progress of the aged feet, which were moving at a frustratingly slow pace.

"Jesus. How many floors _are_ there?" Jane whispered into Maura's ear. She began shifting her weight from one foot to the other while Maura stood perfectly still next to her.

"We have six. And no elevator," the woman said to them sharply. Jane rolled her eyes behind the woman, but responded with, "Oh, really? I would have only guessed three," in her sweetest voice.

Salvatore appeared at the top of the last flight of stairs. He wore long black pants too wide for his withered frame, a thin white v-neck under a red cardigan and a Yankees cap squarely over his snowy hair. His blue eyes sparkled with interest, but his breathing was labored. He took the steps in the way someone in pain would: one foot down followed by the other onto each individual step.

"What can we do for you girls?" he asked, conveying much more friendliness than his female counterpart.

"We're here with the BPD concerning this man," Jane said, holding up the picture of their latest vic.

He nodded his head sadly. "Yep. He lived here all right. Can't say I didn't see it coming."

Jane's hand squeezed Maura's again, this time out of excitement. She smiled genuinely at the man and asked his name.

"Everyone calls me Sonny. And this is my wife Shirley. Come on this way," he said, leading them through a door to their left. Inside was a room that functioned as a parlor and a kitchen, a small partition about waist high separating the two. "Sit down, sit down!" he said, ushering them to a couch. "Shirley, some tea?"

The woman's blank face belied her real apprehension of the two women, especially the taller one. She nodded, and then busied herself in the kitchen.

"He's dead, huh?" Sonny asked.

Jane nodded definitively. "Found him a couple of hours ago. He was probably killed…" Jane paused, realizing she had never gotten a time of death from the medical examiner. "Dr. Isles, do we have a time of death?"

"My initial findings indicate that he was definitely killed within the last eight hours. I'll be able to narrow that down further—"

"Thank you, Dr. Isles," Jane interrupted. She had anticipated a long explanation and wanted to get home at least before the sun rose. "So what do you know about him?"

"He went by the name of Alli McKinley. He came to us about three months ago asking to rent a room. He always hung around with two fellas, a floofy lookin' black guy and a skinny white guy. They would argue occasionally, but it never got bad enough for my wife and me to kick 'em out. He paid his first months' rent all right, but never gave us the last two. He said he was working on finishing up a job, and then he'd have enough money. I believed him—what else was I to do? Can't undo two months, now can ya?"

Shirley set two cups of tea down in front of Jane and Maura. Maura dutifully sipped hers; Jane sat thoughtfully chewing her lip.

A 'floofy' black guy…Jane thought she'd give it a shot. She pulled out a picture of her first vic. "This guy look familiar?"

"You don't say! That's the fella he was always with. Was some sort of magician. Always was showin off some sort of card trick or mind game. He memorized a whole deck of cards right in front of me once. What a fella!"

"Did you ever get his name?"

"Fraid not. They just called him 'G."

"Can we go up and see his room?" Jane asked. Sonny assented, getting up and giving them a key.

"Room 302. It's the second one on the left."

Jane and Maura thanked them for their time and the tea, apologized for the late hour and then made their way up the creaky stairs to Alli McAlister's room.

The '2' in the 302 was cleaner and bigger than the first two numbers and hung slightly askew. The door took two or three tries to click open, the slightly rotting wood making the lock stick.

Alli McAlister had been living with the bare minimum. A bed, a dresser, a table and a bathroom. A strange dartboard hung on one wall and an odd array of gaudy, glittering clothing hung in the open closet on the opposite side.

"What the…?" Jane asked, fingering the stretchy material.

"Did Ru Paul decide to try designing wrestling costumes?" Jane asked a clueless Maura Isles.

"Ru Paul?"

"The drag queen! Have you never seen my mother watching _Ru Paul's Drag Race_? You, Dr. Maura Isles, live in a box."

"It's actually a polyhedron."

Jane sighed, secretly loving that her best friend couldn't understand colloquialisms. Her eyes searched out foresty ones, her body subconsciously relaxing when they found their target. Right now the forest was dark. Mysterious. The eyes of a predator glinted from behind undergrowth.

Jane felt her body tense as Maura moved into her space to put a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. Her hand lingered on Jane's chiseled cheek, her eyelids lowering seductively.

_Kiss me_, Maura willed.

_Bzzzzzzt_. The sound of Jane's phone caused the two of them to quickly pull themselves out of the mire that was the other person.

**Casey:** R U going to be home tonight?

**Jane:** Not sure. Just got a break in the case.

**Casey: **I miss u.

**Jane:** Don't wait up.

"Hey, Jane! Look." Maura waved Jane over to the dresser, where a large collection of knives rested on a bed of fake red velvet.

"This just gets weirder. Why would he have all these knives and not one on him?"

Maura looked from the dartboard to the clothes and to the dresser and then back again, her mouth slightly in a pout as she ruminated. Jane watched the blonde's face as she put all the factors together, imagining Maura using some sort of algorithm and plugging in all the factors.

Maura's face brightened suddenly. She picked a small knife up and walked to the board, standing about five feet from it. She lifted up the knife and took aim. The knife sailed through the air, spinning masterfully and hit the target one ring away from the bulls-eye.

Jane crossed her arms and smiled proudly.

_That's my girl. _

"As impressive as that was, may I remind you that we have a case to solve?"

"Au contraire, this is actually very pertinent. As I just demonstrated, these are perfect knives for knife-throwing, and this is a perfect target for knives."

Jane stared, jaw clenched, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

Maura sighed. "Our victim was a knife-thrower! He most likely was in some sort of performance troupe, as supported by those costumes." Maura gestured over to the awful clothing.

"Our vic was in a circus?" Jane asked, disbelievingly. "I guess that explains our first vic being a magician. Maybe they worked together," she mused. "Let's get back to the precinct and tell Korsak what we know. Maybe we can find out some more now that we have a name."

They slipped the key under the door of the building owners and drove back toward BPD, the Boston streetlights sporadically illuminating their clasped hands and soft smiles.


	8. Maura Loses

At four in the morning, Jane found herself nestled uncomfortably against Casey's firm chest with his arm draped possessively over her side.

"Hey, Casey?" Jane asked the groggy soldier.

"Yesbabe?" Casey muttered, his low voice vibrating in her ear. Jane fought down the light tendrils of annoyance that were curling across her skin and making her cringe. After a long day of hunting down bad guys, a woman needs some space.

"Colonel Casey Jones sounds really nice… do you really not mind just being Sergeant Casey Jones?"

"For you? Not at all." He punctuated his sentence with a perfunctory kiss on the forehead.

"Well, then, Casey…I'd like to take you up on that whole marriage thing."

Casey squeezed her tighter. Jane could almost feel him smiling behind her. "You've made me the happiest person, Jane Rizzoli. Hold on a second…" she could feel the man shift behind her. He reached into a drawer of _his_ bedside table (he had only slept there a handful of times and already had claimed his side of the bed), pulled something out and turned on the lamp.

"Jane Rizzoli—soon to be Jones—" Casey said to her with a dazzling smile, "will you marry me?"

Jane Jones. The name sounded like it was straight of the _Stepford Wives_. She imagined herself wearing a knee-length dress with an apron while cooking dinner with three little kids running around the kitchen.

_Fat chance_.

She suddenly imagined Casey in the same position: wearing an apron, cooking dinner for her and taking care of her kids while she went out and fought the bad guys. More plausible, but no more desirable. Honestly, the whole perfect home thing freaked her out.

If she were to say no, however, Casey would be gone from her life forever. The thought made her heart ache a bit, really. She held in a frustrated sigh. If only things could stay as they were.

Casey would Skype her every day from Iraq. She would miss him but enjoy talking to him. She could spend long days at work, free to come home to an empty refrigerator as she pleased. She would spend her weekends and free nights with Maura, doing yoga, eating take-out, having sleepovers.

Why did things have to change?

"Yes, Casey. I'll marry you."

Casey picked up her left hand and slid a ring on it. Stormy brown eyes met ice blue ones before she smiled and held it up to the lamplight. The band was on the thicker side, yellow gold with a heart shaped diamond in the setting and a smattering of diamonds on the band. It was…nice, she guessed, but simply not very _Jane_.

But who was she to judge? He had probably spent a small fortune on it and was sort of pledging his life to her with that piece of jewelry. Yes, it was nice.

"Thank you, Casey," Jane said with a genuine smile. Casey really was a sweet guy. There was absolutely no reason she should feel so many misgivings about him. She was simply doing what she was always wont to do: run away when things were getting too good. She was lucky to have him, and she would _not_ mess this up.

She fell asleep easily, only to be woken up by her cursed alarm clock three and a half hours later. "UGHHH," she growled, smashing the top of the alarm clock down with her hand.

"Good morning babe," Casey said with a smile, his blue grey eyes twinkling with amusement. Jane smiled a small smile in response. He _was_ sweet. She swung her long legs out of bed and stretched, feeling inadequately rested.

It was a two cups of coffee morning.

**J: **On my way.

**M: **How much coffee should I make?

**J: **How much have you got?

**M: **Right.

Jane nervously twisted the ring on her finger as she sat in her police cruiser outside her best friend's house. Why was this so hard to tell Maura? The medical examiner was her best friend; she should be rushing in there to gush about the ring and wedding plans. Yet here she was, sitting outside her house and dreading going in.

_No_.

Jane slammed her fist down on the steering wheel in defiance of her own misgivings. Casey was a good man. She should be proud to be his fiancée. And she would be damned proud telling her best friend.

She marched up to the door, opened it with her key and almost collided into said best friend who had been just about to leave.

"Jane!" Maura exclaimed, falling over a little bit so that the lanky brunette had to steady her. The taller woman's hands lingered on the blonde's shoulders, the offending ring glinting under the hall light. Jane pulled her friend into an unexpected hug. Somehow, having the blonde in her arms always chased the dark clouds away.

"Maur, look," Jane said quietly, holding the blonde at arm's length and baring the hand with the ring to her. She shifted nervously, scanning the blonde's face for any sort of disapproval.

She was greeted with a blank stare. Maura's usually expressive hazel eyes fell flat and looked right through Jane, chilling the brunette enough to send a shiver down her spine. The seconds ticked by as the two stood, frozen. Jane's heart beat faster with every passing second and Maura's slowed almost to the point of nonentity. Jane idly wondered if the blonde was still breathing as she struggled to control her own. She wanted to hug the woman in front of her, to pet her and tell her everything was going to be all right, to kiss her...

Yet, she couldn't move. She wanted-needed-the slight blonde before her to break her of the spell. Slowly, the horizontal line of her friend's mouth turned up a fraction. "I wish you so much happiness, Jane." The words sounded genuine, but the face did not move a muscle from its stoic almost-smile. It made Jane's heart.

"Don't worry, Maur. Things won't change with us. I promise. We'll still have girls' nights and the Dirty Robber and yoga classes and morning runs," she said. She drew the blonde closer to her again, whispering, "We'll still be us."

Jane held her, more for her own comfort than for the blonde's. Maura was reassuring. Maura was safe. She was the one bit of sanity Jane found in the chaos that was BPD. She was the first one to offer Jane support; she was the last one to impose judgment. She was the first one to make her laugh; the last one to make her sad. And God, did it feel good to hold her right then, when it seemed like the tectonic plates on which her life was rooted were scraping violently against each other. Things were shaking, changing, moving and Maura was the doorframe she leaned up against.

Maura gently extracted herself, unable to control herself while that close to Jane. Her face reddened with shame, and she was out of the house and standing by the passenger door of the police cruiser before Jane could fully register what had happened. Her arms felt as empty as her heart as she trudged her way over to the driver's side.

* * *

One awkward car ride later, the two went their separate ways at BPD. Jane sat down at her desk with a loud thump, cursing herself for forgetting to grab coffee at Maura's. This was going to be a long day.

"Hey, Jane?"

"Unh." She let her head fall loudly onto the desk, smooshing her face into a stack of papers she knew she'd have to deal with at some point. It was days like these that Jane wished she could fast-forward her life a few days. Or at least have a beer or two on the job to grease the wheels a bit.

"Think you can get Frankie to run our second vic's name in the database?"

"That hasn't been done already?" Jane huffed, scanning BPD for signs of her little brother. She caught Korsak staring at her curiously. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"You've just been very far away the past couple of days. Anything up?"

Jane softened a little bit. She pulled her left hand out from under the desk and showed it to her former partner. The gold ring glinted in the fluorescent BPD light and the older detective's eyes widened a bit before crinkling in a slow smile. He stood up and walked over to Jane, grabbing her hand and holding it warmly. "I'm so happy for you, Jane. It is from…Casey, isn't it?"

"Who else?" Jane asked, missing the knowing look from Korsak. She fiddled with the ring and stared at some point on her desk, deep in thought with glazed, unfocused eyes.

_She walks down the aisle in her wedding dress. A figure waits on the altar in front of her wearing a perfectly-tailored tuxedo. Halfway down the aisle, she stops, unsure whether she wants to go through with this. The music continues to play but her feet stay rooted to the current spot on the worn red carpet. The figure at the altar turns to smile at her, her dimpled smile and honey blonde hair radiant in the soft light filtering through stained glass windows. _

"Guys!" Frankie shouted, bursting into the room and making Jane jump out of her reverie. He slams his hands down on Jane's desk. "Frost is gone."

Jane looked at Frankie like he was an idiot. Had he not been around the past two days? Frankie rolled his eyes and elbowed Jane aside, "I mean, he's been wiped from the system. Look." He typed BAROLD FROST into the database and motioned demonstratively toward the screen as the words "No results found" popped up.

"Shit. This has WITSEC all over it," Jane ran a frustrated hand through her hair and quickly rose from her chair, pacing angrily back and forth. She racked her brain, wondering what her partner could have seen to compromise his safety. She commanded Frankie to look up Frost's mother and her partner.

When the search for Frost's mother was loaded, they all stared at the screen in shock. The word "deceased" that appeared on her profile looked so little compared to the gravity of it. Shouldn't it be in bold? In capital letters? Why did it have to look so insignificant? She was dead, along with her partner. They had died in a car bomb outside of New York City Hall.

Presumably to get married.

* * *

**Hey, guys. I know this is a little dark, but bear with me? I know I've got a lot going on here, but I'm slowly going to start tying up all the ends. Happy New Year, by the way! **


End file.
